


I Made a Mistake

by tyndaridai



Category: Korean Drama, 상속자들 | The Heirs
Genre: F/M, Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3088043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyndaridai/pseuds/tyndaridai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s such a shame that he’s so determined to be so god damn immature about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Made a Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Distantly related to [this gifset](http://tyndaridaes.tumblr.com/post/94362890145/kiss-she-scoffs-hiding-the-tremor-in-her-hands) here. Please check [this masterpost](http://tyndaridaes.tumblr.com/post/105382274895/masterpost) for more information about the small ficathon.
> 
>  
> 
> I am very sorry about all this Y/R spamming.

Rachel knows she’s made a mistake when he comes to her, hands stuffed into his blazer pocket and oddly vulnerable. She knows she’s made a mistake when she hears her heart in her ears instead of the vitrol in her voice when she cruelly (defensively) dismisses him. She knows she’s made a mistake when his eyes flash and his jaw tightens and he’s suddenly not speaking to her anymore. She knows she’s made a mistake because for all her fear, all her anger, she can still feel his fingers on her waist and his lips on hers. She knows she’s made a mistake because he’s her best (only) friend in the world, and she loves him enough to risk it.   
  
It’s such a shame that he’s so determined to be so god damn immature about this.   
  
It takes her a few days, but when she figures it all out, she finds him in the empty study room, brooding. 

Young Do doesn’t even bother to cast a look her way when she walks deeper into the room. He’s slouching, he’s always slouching, but Rachel can read the thin line of his smirk and the white of his knuckles where he grips the table too tightly for balance. He’s angry. “So,” he rubs at his brow and there is no affection in his voice when he addresses her. “Are you here to play the victim, or is it my turn?”  
  
My, but he was a self-important jackass. “Keep this pity party up, and I’ll make sure of it.”  
  
He pauses, making a clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Always so competitive.” He sounds bitter and Rachel fights the urge to kick the legs out from his chair and watch him spill onto the floor. Idiot. It’s what he deserved.   
  
“Are you finished then?” she crosses her arms under her chest and stalks closer to him. “Because I am, and I imagine you’d like to spend a few more minutes sulking before finally making your point.”  
  
His fists clench against the table. “Well if it’s sulking, I suppose you’d recognize it best.”  
  
Rachel presses her lips together and wonders if it would be worth it to just bludgeon him with her stiletto instead of resorting to words. She watches him deliberately avoid her gaze and feels the violent urge rise deliciously.   
  
“Are you really going to be like—Young Do,” she snaps and shoves him in the shoulder. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”   
  
It takes only a moment, but Young Do suddenly slams his palms on the table and stands, looming over her with barely contained rage. His eyebrows are drawn so tightly together that Rachel thinks to take a step backward. She doesn’t, she meets his furious stare with an icy one of her own.   
  
“Is this what you want?” he says fiercely, and the room is constricted to the fulcrum that is his presence, dark and threatening. “Fuck, Rachel,” she blinks in surprise. “What is it that you  _want_?”  
  
She was the one who had made the mistake, but neither of them were very good at owning up to such things. 

"Something I didn’t think I could have," she utters calmly, swallowing the hesitation down.  _Something you shouldn’t, can’t want_ , she thinks as she watches him shove his hands into his pockets and shake his head at her.

"Tan?" he laughs so viciously that it sends chills down her spine. "I thought you were finished with that. Or really," he drops his head slightly so his mocking eyes are level with hers, "he was finished with you."

God, but he was an asshole.

"I think it’s clear that the only person here grieving over the loss of that second son, is you Young Do.” That darkens his eyes and sets his jaw, and Rachel can see the fury rebuilding itself. “No,” she continues dismissively before Young Do can tear another strip off of her. “I want something better than Tan.” And worse.

She swallows as Young Do watches her curiously, suspiciously.

"And you haven’t just taken it," he bites into his lip and rocks back on his heels. "That doesn’t sound like you."

She wants to laugh.

"I’m not interested in possession, Young Do. I want," she presses her tongue against the back of her teeth so hard her jaw aches, "for it to be mutual. In whatever capacity."

He isn’t following, the crease in his brow and the serious expression on his face makes that very clear.

"What the hell are you talking about."

Rachel sucks in a breath and crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you truly that stupid? I made a  _mistake_.”

“Stupid?” He throws her such a disdainful look. “You think you’re being poetic, don’t you? Save your theatrics for your after school special and tell me straight or don’t bother at all.  _Aish_ ,” he rubs a hand over his eyes and turns away. “I need a cigarette.”

"Don’t you dare."

He scoffs. “Tell me or get out, I’m tired of this.”

"I’m trying. You’re too mentally deficient to even grasp a simple concept.”

"Well no wonder I wasn’t good enough for the great Yoo Rachel," he sneers, and takes a seat on the large table, fingers fumbling for the cigarettes in the coat draped over a chair. "I don’t care about this thing you want Rachel," he retrieves the white stick and levels her with a condescending stare. "I’m not your girlfriend."

She stands there, fists clenched so tightly against her ribs that she feels like she could draw blood. Preferably his, she thinks and watches him stick the cigarette in his mouth with barely contained anger. What was she even thinking? Young Do was swiftly proving all her misgivings right, driving her to the line between exasperation and homicide just as a bonus. The proof was all right here, and yet…

"Get that cigarette out of your mouth."

There’s a clicking sound as he ignites the lighter, and brings it closer to his face. “Why?”

"I won’t kiss you with ash in your mouth," she says matter of factly. It freezes Young Do where he sits, flame extinguishing as quickly as it ignited when he snaps the metal cap over it.

"What?"

Rachel is not as brave as her words so she hides the tremble in her fingers with action. “What I want,” she explains and moves closer to him, grasping the cigarette from his open mouth, fixating on the corded muscle of his throat only inches away from her.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself. “I think we should date,” she announces practically, and even to her ears it sounds more like a business proposition than a confession, but she won’t let herself be derailed now.

"Or if you’d prefer this to be a strictly sexual relationship I won’t disagree," she stops, swallows hard and does her best to quell the blush when his eyebrows fly high. "It’s been made clear to me that I have feelings for you," she tilts her jaw like she’s expecting him to go on the offensive, and finally meets his eyes. "I’d like to do something about that."

Young Do is staring back at her curiously, the shock preventing him from shuttering his emotions as quickly as he normally did. 

He is so silent that Rachel can hear her heart in her ears, betraying her calm exterior with ever thumping pulse. She swallows again and it draws his eyes to her throat, causing her stomach to clench tightly. He stares at her neck like he’s contemplating existence and she wants so badly to cry.

He was going to reject her. It. Them. Whatever. She’d made herself vulnerable to he of all people and it had been a mistake. He was furious with her already. She had been the one to foolish reject him first.  _Pathetic, self-absorbed_ —

"Why."

He’s assessing her with wary eyes, the look so familiar it furrows her brow. “What?”

He licks his lips and runs hooded eyes over the planes of her face. It isn’t lustful, he’s trying to figure her out. “What’s your angle, Rachel. Is this a game? Three days ago you laughed in my face when I asked for the same thing.”

He doesn’t believe her.

Rachel narrows her eyes at him. “Of course you’d try to find an ulterior motive,” she scoffs. “Is it so unbelievable that I could—” she blinks with the sudden realization and draws her mouth to a close. Young Do seems to realize the trajectory of her thoughts and gives her a flat, forbidding look.

"Fine," she flicks his cigarette to the ground. "Forget I said a thing," she refuses to let the burn of shame overwhelm her, refuses to let him reduce her any more than he already has. "If you tell anyone about this—”

"Rachel," his voice startles her out of her threats, and she blinks back at him.  "I won’t give them up."

"What?"

She watches, transfixed as he reaches for her, hesitates, and then takes her hand in his. “The cigarettes,” he throws her a slow, familiar smirk that disappears when he clears his throat. He looks like he’s still struggling to catch up to her, and she’s not sure if he’s more uncertain of her or himself. “If we do this, I won’t give them up.”

"Ok," she says without thinking, distracted by his long fingers entwined with hers.

His mouth twists and he furrows his brow at her, surprised. “Really?”

"Of course not," she snaps finally, uncomfortable with her suddenly erratic thoughts and impatient with this situation. "Did you agree? You tell me to speak plainly and you can’t even manage to say yes or no? Young Do," she frowns at his confusing reaction and thinks to slap him. "Are you mocking me?"

"Aish," he exhales. "Take what you want before you send yourself to the hospital."

She does hit him then. “Ya,” he sucks in a breath and clutches his shoulder. “What is this?”

"This is a confession— my first you moron,” she feels like she could fly apart at the seams, torn between wanting to rip her hand from his grasp and press him closer because she was allowed to.   
  
To his credit, he doesn’t bring up the fact that she’d mocked his confession in the first place. He probably wants to, though. 

She was more resilient than she believed, fragile in ways she refused to acknowledge, but in this she had surprised herself. Young Do was not an option, had never been an option, and that was partially why she’d initially reacted as she did. Tan had shaken her to her foundation, convinced her of a reality that did not belong to her. And yet here she was.

Maybe the memory of what she’d done only a few days before was too fresh a wound to cover because he was still looking at her like the situation was beyond his comprehension. He had a grasp on her hand but she felt like he could just as easily push her to the ground as he could pull her to him. He was never this contemplative.

"You’re so dramatic," he says finally, making a clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth. "Yes, my answer is yes, you harpy," he grumbles that last part. "I don’t-" he exhales deeply and seems annoyed. "Come here, then."

He’s tugging at her fingers, pulling her into the bracket his legs make from his seated position. They don’t touch any further, both staring at one another, assessing, weighing whatever they find in eachother’s eyes.

"What are you?" he mumbles, bringing slow, hesitant hands up to cup her face. She thinks she might be shaking, she’s not sure of anything when he’s looking at her mouth like that.  He disturbs her, utterly.

"Does it matter?" She feels impatient the longer he isn’t kissing her. She feels ready to ignite, blood aflame and buzzing in her entire body. "Kiss me, or I’m going to think you don’t know how."

That earns her a smirk, and suddenly Young Do’s grip isn’t as unsure as it was before. And as he parts her mouth with warm, sure lips, forgoing any chaste press of skin, she finds that she isn’t unsure anymore either.


End file.
